Violence Incarnate
by culpaeros
Summary: A collection of one-shots centered around Shizuo. Ratings will vary depending on chapter and all were previously posted on my tumblr.
1. Powerless

**Fandom: **Durarara!**  
>Characters:<strong> Shizuo, Tom  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> Something Shizuo Related  
><strong>Notes: <strong>I feel like OP wanted something happier but instead they got this.

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><p>There was never anything quite so despairing as the thought of one being powerless. Not powerless as in one does not possess any sort of physical strength, for certainly that was the opposite of true for one Heiwajima Shizuo, but rather powerless to do as one wished. Powerless to be free, to be who you wanted to be and do what you wanted to do.<p>

Powerless to even be happy or merely content with one's life because one possessed so little control over it that, in the end, the struggle seemed almost pointless.

In the end…it was easier to just give up to the powers that be in one's life, wasn't it?

Now this wasn't the first time these sort of thoughts had crossed the fortissimo's mind nor would it be the last. But no matter how many times he experienced this alienating sense of self every time it left a numbing feeling within his very veins. Like a poisonous snake wrapping itself around some small, helpless animal - injecting its poison with one bite and suffocating its victim – this feeling of forlorn powerlessness stained every drop of blood within Shizuo until he felt dried of it all and left with only the grease of self-loathing within his veins and a heart struggling to beat through the thick tar.

"Just sign these papers here and you may leave. On behalf of the Tokyo police department I apologize for this mistake and for any inconvenience it may have caused, Heiwajima-san."

Outside it was raining.

The liquid felt heavy against the blond's skin. It gave him initiative to tilt his head up, to stare into the dark, starless sky above with an expression torn between brokenness and resolution. The water splattered against his face, several drops striking eyes and lips uncaring of the danger it presented to the man.

Because it knew it could never hurt him.

It knew as well as Shizuo did that nothing could ever hurt him enough physically to drown out the emotional pain.

"I'm sorry…"

A bartender uniform clung to his skin, sticking uncomfortably and even sagging slightly, as he remained standing out there in the rain. For him one of the worst offenses a person could do was to tarnish this uniform - to besmirch it in anyway - because for him this uniform was not only one of the few things of value in which he owned but it meant more to Shizuo than his own life.

The uniform was a symbol to him.

It had been a symbol of hope, of love.

Of acceptance.

Of a brother who, no matter how far away he was now because of a soaring acting career, would actually take the time to think of Shizuo. To wonder if he was okay, to look around a little and find he was then a bartender, and then to make the trip personally to bring him a matching uniform in a small plea for the blond to have a bit of stability in his life.

This uniform had been more than a piece of cloth to Shizuo.

This uniform had once held all of Shizuo's dreams and gave him reason to believe that things would get better.

But now…just like his dreams this uniform had become stained and ripped beyond repair.

"…I didn't keep my promise."

Hands shoved in his pockets the blond let the poisoned hatred continue spreading through him as the rain beat against his skin.

Maybe…in the end… it was wrong to hope so frivolously.

Maybe a monster such as himself should have never thought he could actually be happy…

"Oh, if it isn't Shizuo."

Surprise caused mocha eyes to widen when a blond head looked back down to see the smiling face of his one time senpai. The other's eyebrow was arched, his expression bemused as if wondering what would possess the younger male to stand out here in the pouring rain without some sort of cover from the onslaught. Shizuo couldn't help but gape, feeling slightly embarrassed that not only had someone seen him during this low point but that that someone had been a person he had previously respected. Unsure of what to do his eyes darted to the side, looking everywhere but at the elder, while he waited for Tom to say what he wanted to.

"hn…"

Tom took a step closer, umbrella lifting so that he could help cover the other as questions were asked and brief uninformative answer's were reluctantly given.

But just like that….

Everything changed.

The despair once plaguing the fortissimo's body was lifted away, self-hatred replaced by a feeling of fleeting inspiration, when a job offer was placed forth.

Suddenly…things didn't seem so bad.

But when Tom left that connection with another person left with him. The motion of being alright flowed out of the blond and he was left still in that poisoned state of mind.

Why would Tom offer to help him? It had been years since they had last spoken and it wasn't as though the other was walking out here in the sheer desire to see Shizuo waiting by the police station.

What reason did anyone have to help someone as hopeless and weak as him?

_I want to have connections to other people…_

Blond head ducking down as if hoping to protect himself from the rain Shizuo finally began to walk away. His shoulders were squared, a resolution set within the muscles there, while the ex-bartender hurried to see if some part of his uniform was salvageable.

And although his back was still hunched as if carrying a weight too large for anyone to bare Shizuo seemed almost uplifted.

For truth be told the fortissimo could never understand why anyone would care or worry over him. He couldn't understand why Kasuka or Kadota still stuck around, why Tom came back, or why Celty would sometimes lend him a figurative listening ear. If he was in their place the anti-violence male would loathe the violence incarnation that he had become.

However…

Even if that question may forever linger there was no denying the strength their good will gave to him.

Maybe…

…so long as they remained by his side…

Maybe Shizuo wasn't so powerless after all.


	2. Childhood

**Fandom**: Durarara!  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Shizuo and Kasuka  
><strong>Prompt<strong>: Birthday  
><strong>Notes<strong>: I keep flip flopping on what I want to write for Shizuo's birthday so I think I'm going to try and write small ficlets marking the progression and change of Shizuo's birthday's throughout the years for him starting with this one.

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><p>Sure his brother was there as well, the brunette also silent and also staring at the broken tables, chairs, and presents, but his presence couldn't bring the comfort the young boy craved - couldn't bring the warmth of a connection which was real and undamaged within this world. If anything the other being there only made matters worse. If anything his <em>normal<em> existence only further spread the dark thoughts which continued to whirl within Shizuo's head.

_**Why**__ am I like this?_

_Is there something __**wrong**__ with me?_

_Did __**I**__ do something wrong?_

_Why me?_ _Why me?_ **_WHY ME?_**

The other children his parents had brought over for the celebration had already left. Some had cried. Other's had screamed. All had stared.

Were staring.

Even now he could feel their eyes upon him, judging and shocked. Looking at him as though he were something disgusting.

Something to be feared.

A _monster_.

A head was raised slowly to glance up at the roof in order to help fight a warm wetness from flowing from dilated amber eyes down along pale, cold cheeks.

And in that moment he wondered - almost idly as the sound of his parent's return home marked the beginning of his birthday 'party's' end -

If anyone could ever truly love a monster?

For in that moment - even as his brother's hand slid comfortingly into his - the boy who was not yet ten could feel the answer hidden within the ever slowing pace of his adrenaline rushed heart.

_Who could love a monster that couldn't even love himself?_


	3. Asperity

**Fandom**: Durarara!  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Shizuo, Izaya  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG 13  
><strong>Prompt<strong>: Fury  
><strong>Notes<strong>: Just wanted to write angry shizuo.

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><p>A litter of cigarette butts were strewn across the ground, each one burned completely threw by a flame that was not put out until the heat could be felt across chapped lips. Nearly a whole pack seemed to be laid to waste - the final one currently in the midst of its demise - as the incarnation of violence tried to control himself. One who didn't know any better would have thought it ridiculous. That this large intake of nicotine in such a short amount of time could even be arguably dangerous. But since when had other's opinions influenced the smoker? Since when had this one in particular even fucking cared what happened to his body? If anything, if anything, it had always been the amber eyed males true goal to destroy it. For if he couldn't control it what was the point in having it? What was the point?!<p>

His chest heaved with the intake of another deep breath. Tar dripped down the back of his throat, coating it in it's sinful grace, as he tried to calm down. The blond male was currently and had been for the last hour crouched within an alley. Night had long since passed and it was here in the darkness that the beast could find some kind of peace. Thus far the gangs that haunted these streets had not come anywhere near his hiding place and he was lucky enough to have only a flickering streetlamp near the alley's opening to keep him company.

But still-

Even as he tried to hold it in for as long as he could -

Upon the blond's exhale of the sinuous smoke he still didn't feel better.

It had been a long and hard day for him. But when weren't the day's like this anymore? After all now he made a living embracing the legend that made him the most feared man in all of Ikebukuro. He survived off of people's fear, their money forcibly taken eventually winding up in the bodyguards pocket. Still though, today had seemed harder than normal. A couple of the people he and Tom-senpai had visited hadn't heard of him, hadn't comprehended the fear they should've had instilled in them since birth for this fortissimo. Not that it mattered now. Because, despite not knowing before, they sure as hell knew now. The bodyguard had made sure of that.

Five people.

Two due to this lack of knowledge had mistakenly mocked him.

One had tried to coerce him into bed.

Another had begged.

But the final one been the one to break the horse's back.

He had already beaten the other two so bad they would probably be spending the rest of the month in the hospital so it was needless to say he had been fuming still upon the arrival of that final one-

STINKS

Pupil's dilated as his body stiffened. Lips turned gaunt and firm around the butt of his final cancerous stick while his head turned slowly to gaze towards the entrance of the alley. But, unsurprisingly due to the quiet of the night, there was no one there.

"..."

He took another hit of his cigarette as the blond continued to watch the entrance with an almost rapt attention. Back in high school it would have taken everything within his teacher's power to make the blond pay such acute attention to her lesson plan. Yet in the end they should have all been thankful that this concentration was almost nonexistent back then. Or else who could say for certain if any part of the building would have been left standing in order for Raira to become what it is today.

Standing upon stiff leg's the bodyguard slowly peeled the cigarette away from his dry lips with one hand. His whole body felt alert, almost as though it were electrocuted with anticipation, while he waited like a predator seeking out its prey.

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-"

Right then a fur lined jacket disappeared around the alley's corner.

"ZAAAAAAAAAAA-"

Along with a head of raven black hair.

"YAAAAAAAAAAA!"

All led by a shit eating crooked grin.

The tendon's in the blond's neck bulged while biceps strained and flexed against a white bartending shirt. His mile long leg's bent and the sound of something hitting the ground was the only thing he was vaguely aware of as a foot stomped out the final broken cigarette. Vision tunneling the monster began to run forward, gaining speed with every step, while a laugh echoed hauntingly through the night.


End file.
